Battle Cry of the Formerly Lazy

I've been pondering this post for quite a while now; possibly a year or more. It's in response to the thoughts some people express online and I know that more harbor in their dark, inky hearts. Those thoughts are along the lines of, "We get it! You went for a run. We're all proud of you but apparently not as proud as you are of yourself. Shut up!" 

The problem is this: we are proud of ourselves. Very. I would guess that 95% of the people who post about their workouts on FB have historically not been regular exercisers. Their lazy days may have been a long time in the past, and maybe now they love working out regularly, but that doesn't mean that it's easy to do every day. That doesn't mean that there isn't still a lazy, wheezing, overweight kid in the back of their minds, trying to get them to just sit down and watch TV instead of going to the gym. (For a great perspective on this, read Matthew Inman's Oatmeal entry about why he runs.)

When I started writing this post a long time ago, I had pictures of charts ready to go showing how much I'd exercised that week and how that was such a miraculous change from my past. I had to remove them because now my charts would look like janky hammocks strung between the days when I had the time and inclination to lift or run. When my kids were in school, they'd ask me what I did during the day while they were gone. I'd tell them that I ran or went to the gym, and they'd say, "Well, duh! You do that every day!" It filled present me with joy and high school me with shock to hear that. I couldn't believe how much I'd changed my life. I had changed my body so much that, even though I wasn't skinny, I didn't gain back any weight that I had lost after 6 weeks in Michigan last summer, barely working out and eating all the food of my youth. My body makeup had altered.

Just eating thimbleberries wouldn't have been bad, but thimbleberry jam on nisu, on ice cream sundaes, etc!!!

Now I'm back to the sluggo days. With the stress of preparing to move and then getting here and finding a place to live, my workouts have been very sporadic. I'm back out of shape and have to basically start over with strength and endurance, especially in the Hawaii humidity. My right leg really doesn't enjoy running, even though my heart and mind do, so I have to find other cardio. Last week, I decided that it was going to be jumping on the trampoline. Which sucks. I didn't make have time to do it over the weekend after that first time, but I did do it yesterday. IT SUCKED. I'd rather go on a walk for twice, heck, thrice! as long. But I did it. I know it will get easier eventually. I set that stupid timer on my phone and I freaking jumped until it was done. I was very proud of myself. So, yeah. I posted about it this time, too, but on twitter.

Another thing you need to know is that, for the most part, the running/biking/racing/lifting/gym rat/whatever community is VERY supportive. When runners pass each other on the trail, they give each other a thumbs-up or even say "Good job. You got this," especially if they see someone struggling. If you've ever participated in Team in Training, you will forever shout, "Go Team!" when you see anyone in a TNT shirt working out. So, even if someone does tons of races or has been naturally skinny their whole lives, they're usually trying to encourage others rather than shame them.

We all know that we need encouragement and accountability, so that's another reason people post about their work. You're likely to see someone post on FB that they're going to work out later so that they can't punk out and certain buddies will ask them if they did it. A friend posting, "Just did an easy 10 miles," might make me want to vomit because I have never called 10 miles easy, but it will also get me off the couch just like someone posting, "Just did a crappy, slow mile, but I did it," will get me off the couch.

So take it easy on our fitness posts, okay? Unless you're friends with the cast of the Jersey Shore, people aren't trying to simply show off. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to jump on the crap-o-line AND do a bodyweight workout tonight. I don't want to, but I will. And I'll be real proud of myself if
when I do.

Thankful

Here's a copy of my latest post from ye ole training blog:

 Since about July 2011 through now, I haven't been doing a ton of running due to one injury or another. First there was some wicked tendonitis on the tops of my feet. I saw a sports podiatrist who gave me some exercises to do & I also got custom inserts. Hooray.

With the exercises & some rejiggered Super Feet inserts, I made it through the Rock n' Roll Half Marathon in San Jose on 10/3, but it wasn't pretty. I was still in a lot of pain & hadn't been able to train enough to make it a good race. I finally got my custom inserts at the end of October. On the 27th, I was going for my first run with the inserts. I was on a trail that I knew, it wasn't hard, and I wasn't pushing myself too hard, but when I went to dodge a pothole, while my foot was still in the air, I felt a pop in my knee. There was no running back to the car at all. I thought I had torn something, but an MRI showed no tear, so I just went to physical therapy for a few months.

It seems that the foot issues & the leg/back/knee issues I've had over the years are all related (who knew?), so I was actually glad to be addressing things, hoping I'd nip it all in the bud. It has taken a lot longer than I wanted it to or expected, and things aren't as perfect as I'd hoped, but I'm getting there. If I had needed surgery, it would have been at least 6 months of recovery afterwards.

I've slowly moved from elliptical only (barf) with no resistance, to some resistance, to taking "brisk" walks outside or on the treadmill with bursts of fast walking. It has been almost 6 months since the knee pop, and I ran for the first time 2 days ago. I haven't been to physical therapy in about 2 months, and my therapist told me not to even think about running until I had been pain-free for a month, but I just couldn't quite do it. I'd say I had a couple weeks pain-free (meaning no "Oh, my Lord! My knee is going to break!" moments or days where I just want to ice my knee, have Seth rub it, and I cry), but then had another "Oh, crap!" day. But I've been doing little pre-running things like jumping and just barely-not-running times in my walks on the treadmill, so I thought it was time. A little competition (even in my own mind) doesn't hurt, either. I ran into some people I knew at the gym the other day, so of course, I wanted to run instead of just walking on the treadmill.

So after a warm-up and a few rounds of 4.2 mph walking, I decided to try the jog. Just 4.3 for 30 seconds. And it was great. I walked for 3 more minutes then decided to try it again. I wasn't hurting, so I planned on just repeating that for a while. It was VERY difficult to not push it too far, so I kept telling myself what I needed to do and that I do NOT want to be injured again/longer. I focused on my stride, being sure my feet weren't rolling, I wasn't pounding, and I crouched a tiny bit, while still keeping my torso long. I did end up shortening my walk breaks to 2.5 minutes, but I stayed at 30 seconds of running. I did that until I had about 5.5 minutes of running total, then I noticed that I was at 2.9 miles. Well, I might as well do a 5k, right? Of course. So, I may have been dumb. I ran out the last .2 miles, which ended up being 2 minutes, which may have not been the smartest thing I've ever done, but it didn't come back to bite me.

So, 7 minutes or so of running out of 50, and I felt good. My knee was definitely sore and very stiff, so I've been icing & stretching a lot. Yesterday, I just went on the stationary bike for 30 minutes or so. My knee was definitely stiff, but the bike didn't really hurt. Then today, I did an outside run for the first time in almost 6 months. The dog & I walked down to the creek, and I let myself run for 30 seconds at a time for only 3 minutes total, with 3 minutes of walking between runs. Oh man, was it hard to not do more, but I am really trying to be smart about this. I wanted to run more, but I was outside and it didn't hurt, so I'm happy. The tendons on the back of my knee were pretty tight, but no sharp pain or real aching.

I've signed up for The Color Run on July 14th, and I wasn't sure if I'd be walking or running, but I think I'll be running, which is a lovely thought. I'm going to find a good training plan and stick with it, so I hope that I can do a half this fall and actually get a PR. If I'm smart & listen to my body, I'm pretty sure I can do this. Here's to trying to get into Nike this year!

A break

It has been raining for days, so today when it stopped for a bit, I took the dog out for a walk that we both needed. The rain coupled with a very long cold I had has gotten me back out of the habit of regular exercise, and I hate that.

Since trying to become a runner, I feel like nothing I do is good enough. I need to do everything more often, faster, don't stop, do it better, you suck. When I take the dog for our half-hour walk, I'm still thinking about walking a bit faster to take some time off, or running a bit, or doing farther. I think about what my running friends are doing that day and I consider myself a joke.

I spend too much of my life thinking I'm not good enough and need to change. Too much time feeling guilty.

On today's walk, I was trying to walk quickly, and I glanced out the corner of my eye, thanked God for the beautiful hills, and almost kept going. But I made myself stop, turn and look at the green, and stand there for a minute, doing nothing. That's when I realized all this crap. Well, re-realized some of it.

This was heavier & longer than planed, and I'm sorry. I'm mostly in a very good place right now; today is just off. Lack of sleep.

I've been lax in my writing exercises

But not in my physical exercises, I can assure you.
Nor in my homework duties.
You see, I've just been burnt out these past 2 weeks from class.  30 hours of class in two weeks + 1200 pages of reading + my other class reading & homework + figuring out paper topics + searching/buying/checking out books for said papers.

Thus?  My brain is mush when I get home and I haven't felt like turning the computer on and blogging at night.  I'm sorry.  I don't apologize to you, because I know you're cool with it, but I apologize to my future self and its writing abilities.

To celebrate diminished brain powers and lack of writing finesse, I shall pretend that this blog is my twitter feed and just blurt out some of my thoughts.  Enjoy!

• I'm reading Chi Running and worked on my form a little bit yesterday.  Well, a lot.  A planned 30 minute, light run to work on form turned into an hour and a half or so of being lost, being hot, having to poop, worrying about the dog, backtracking, resting in a park, and finally asking for directions.  My time was still pretty good, though, and I'm not very sore today, so I think the form worked.
• I think I'm going to do my first paper on Manifestations/Representation/? of the Trinity in The Chronicles of Narnia. So, I'm kind of skimming my way through them right now.  
• My right butt cheek hurts.
• I'm glad to be back in Sonoma County after being away for all of this week and most of last week.
• We didn't have the DVR set to keep more than one episode of So You Think You Can Dance, so we have to watch Wednesday's ep online, but I already know who went home on Thursday.
• You know what my 4 bookcases look like, yes?  Well, I currently also have 7 books on the back of the couch, one on the end table behind me, one pile of 13 on the kitchen table, another pile of 5 on the table, 6 on top of the bookcase in the kitchen, and I returned 8 to the library earlier.  Almost all of the books mentioned were/are for school.  
• I'm really really in the mood to go to Southern California.  Hmmm...one more...
• I love my life:  being in school, being in ministry, being in California, being in love, being in shape.  It's all good.

A strange day

I really don't know why it has been a strange day, but it had been.  I slept later than I wanted, and I went to the gym pretty early, but it was all a bit off.  My plans for the gym were changed in the middle being that I wore the wrong shoes, and I just got in a semi-foul mood. 

Reading:  I read a bit of Remembering C.S. Lewis at the gym, but my frustrating day made me just want to escape into Harry Potter. 
I also read a lot of food labels, as I went to Costco to stock up on more things we could eat.  While they don't really have a lot of alternative foods for a gluten-free diet, I bought a metric ton of fruit, which is lovely. 

Ah, a read for fun day

I didn't do any homework today, and that was totally fine.  I would have read a little bit for school, but the book I need hasn't come yet.  Other than that one, of which I read as much as I could on Amazon, I'm pretty much done with my duties for this week.  We had an essay due tonight, and I appear to be the only one who has turned it in.  I was going to be all proactive and respond to others tonight, but there are none there. 

I had a lovely, social day, and had a good time at the gym tonight, and I read.  I'm working on Redeeming Love and I mostly like it.  There are sentences & scenes every once in a while that are a tad on the "corny Christian fiction" side, but not many, and I'm enjoying the story. 

This is the problem:  when I'm into a book, I'm kind of okay with not going to bed at a decent, human hour, because I want to read.  I've always been this way. 
I may need the help of nyquil tonight, because I was at the gym later than I expected (doing an  hour of cardio will do that) and I...well, I took a nap.  Kind of.  Fell asleep on the couch.  But I was so tired!!  I could hardly keep my eyes open.  Gah. 

Tomorrow we have a YA event at a park, where we'll be hiking (wandering in the hills, really) for a couple hours, then grilling by one of the lakes.  It should be lovely.

Also, I realize that YA can refer to teenagers, like Young Adult fiction.  That is not this group, though there are some teenagers involved. It's college and other young adults, up to around the mid-30s mark, meaning that I'm too old, but I'm a leader, so there.

Ways in which I miss being a kid

 I was in the pool at the gym today for a few minutes, and I had a wonderful time.  I love swimming.  I love being in the water.  It has always been one of my favorite things in the world, but most days, if you were to ask me about swimming, I would say that it sucks.  That's because as an athlete, I've redefined "swimming" to mean "doing laps," which sucks big toes.  I'm not good at it, it's hard, and I hate it.  I had to do it when I was training for a triathlon, and I've barely been in the pool since, and that's sad. 

I love playing in the water, flipping around, maybe doing a little freestyle, but without goggles and with my hair streaming behind me or getting in my face. I don't know if I'll ever get over the fun of making the George Washington hairstyle, where you put all your hair in front of your face, and then fold it back to make a roll in front. I don't know why it's called George Washington, but that's what we called it in junior high. 

As I was in the pool, I remembered that I used to say that my favorite things in the world were swimming, dancing, and playing volleyball.  The only time I've really danced in the past, hmmm....10 years? has been at weddings. I used to love to go out dancing, but as I've gotten older, I've gotten more tired.  It's hard to stay up that late and go out, and I don't know of good places around here anyway.  Right now, I'm saying to myself, "You need to call Jenny & go out dancing soon," but it makes me tired just to think about it.

And volleyball? Sheesh.  As a general rule, most adults don't play volleyball.  It's just not around.  And when there is an opportunity, it's usually people who are Good and I am not Good Enough, at least in my own head, to play.  I'm too much of a perfectionist to relax and have fun.  And I don't want to make the serious players mad. 

My friends and I used to play wallyball fairly regularly in college, and that was ridiculous amounts of fun.  Sometimes we knew it was just for fun, depending on who came, and other times we got to be a little more serious and get some good exercise.  That was awesome.  I still have my kneepads somewhere.  Sliding is wonderful. 

Is there anything you miss doing?  Can/should we get together and just do them? If anyone is up for a not completely pointless, but no pressure volleyball game, please let me know.

Monthly Check-In

Good golly, I haven't written here at all this month! Happy October, friends. It's my birthday month.

The month has been a bit odd. Not bad, but just off slightly. It started with Seth out of town. He went to Houston to be with his family and to see Metallica without me. sigh. At least his brother loved the concert enough that he bought tickets for the show in December out here, and I get to go!

The whole time Seth was gone, and up until today, too, I've been sick. Not any sort of horrible, flu, oh-I'm-going-to-die sick, but, possibly, one of the most annoying illnesses I've had. For over two weeks now, I've had headaches and nausea that ebb and flow. Quite frustrating. So, while I can pretty much carry on with life as usual, I'm not myself. I'm tired, and I'm in pain. I did go to the doctor to make sure I don't have a tumor or anything, and the nurse said it's some sort of viral syndrome. She also mentioned that I should go back if it kept going for 14 days, but I haven't done that. It's not quite as constant as it was before, so I figure it's slowly leaving. I'm done catering to it.

So, Seth was gone, and I lazed about and didn't eat a full meal once while he was gone. I had an excellent walk/run with some friends over two weeks ago, then my legs got very angry with me and I decided to see a massage therapist to work on them. I've seen her three times now, and I really think she's making a big difference in my shins. I'm going to give running a try today at the gym, so I'll let you know.

Seth got home the morning of Stephanie & Ken's wedding, but we thought we had plenty of time. For months now, I was certain that the wedding was at 3pm. So I picked Seth up, we stopped at a couple stores on the way home, and happily dealt with San Francisco traffic. Once home, we were very much looking forward to a quick nap before the wedding, especially because Seth had been up all night. Before said nap, I decided to look at the invitation again just to make sure I had the time right. The time was 12:52, and the wedding was at 1:30. Oof.
Thankfully, we were both able to look adorable in a timely manner. That's how we roll.

The wedding was lovely. It was much more formal than I'm used to in a high church sort of way. Though it didn't feel very personalized, it did feel holy and special in a way that most weddings do not. There was a lot of scripture and reading of things together; lots of mention of Jesus. It really presented the marriage as something sacred and serious, and that was great.

The reception was beautiful, but cold. It was a cool, windy day, and we were outside. By the time dinner was being served, I had jeans on under my dress, Katie had temporarily borrowed a coat from one of Steph's lovely co-workers, and I had also doled out sweatshirts for Sara and Jenny to put over their arms. With both Seth and I being so tired, and I wasn't feeling good anyway, we left during the groom-mom dance. Asleep o'clock was 10:30. It was fabulous.

On my birthday, we started our new small group Bible study, and it was great. Our new-ish friends made fajitas for dinner, got me a gift card to Outback (in a Twilight card with an Edward bookmark!), and an ice cream cake. They really went too far, but I felt so loved. They are really great and I look forward to getting closer with them and knowing them in the Bible study context.

And as if that wasn't enough, I had a spur of the moment girls' weekend with the friend who introduced me & Seth! She's got quite the full plate in her life right now, and needed a getaway, so she flew out from TX and requested WINE!! We had a lovely time in SF and Sonoma, and it was good to spend time together.

Other than that? Hurt my knee driving around. I'm currently babying that. Taught at the college group for the first time, and that was great. I ended up connecting with someone that I never thought I would, so that was a God thing. High school group going great, class is awesome, and we're going to Yosemite for 4 days next weekend!

Next post won't be so diary-like, I swear.

Spinning along

"Rock Lobster" is a really great song for the stationary bike. Probably good for real biking, too. Keep with the beat, go crazy at the crazy parts, slow down when it does. A most excellent 7 minutes.

Lactic Acid!

We went to Yosemite with a group from church last Thursday-Sunday. Camping, frolicking in rivers, etc, etc. It was good. One of the most beautiful places on the planet, I'm sure.
So...
Saturday morning, we got up (I won't say "woke" because I didn't sleep) at 4:30 so we could potty, grab our lunches and breakfasts we made the night before, try not to wake up the non-Half Domers, and get out of there. The point in starting so FREAKING early was to be out as little as possible in the 100 degree weather. Believe me, I was out there anyway.

Anyway. Nervous, wishing that more bathroom-ing had been done, I hit the trail with my group around 6:30am. We were the slowest of our 3 groups heading up, but we were really the average speed. Nevertheless, we had to put up with radio shenanigans and trash-talking from the fastest (read: psychotic) group at various points throughout the day.

Even within the first mile or so, it was the hardest thing I'd done. Here's the trail: I can tell you that it sucked.
After this steepness, there are stone stairs of various heights going up to the first waterfall. ..That sucked, too. Do you sense a theme? In case you don't, I'll spell it out: The Theme Is- Suck, Pain, Fear, Beauty, and Triumph. (I jumped a head a little bit.)

Anywhoodle, two waterfalls, lots of stairs/rocks/rubble. Fear of neck-breakage. About 6200' up, there is Little Yosemite Valley, which was great. It doesn't appear that anyone took any pictures, probably because when you get to it, you're so thrilled to have flat ground, that your head is filled with delusions of speed and making good time.

After a while of traipsing across flat (yeah!) stretches of sandy (yuck!) trail, it starts heading up again through the trees. It's all very lovely- the trees looked like cartoons, they were so bright copper on their bark. Big trees, rocks, sloping hills. It's quite lovely. We knew we were stopping to rest at a spring so that we could get some more water, and we were expecting a lovely, burbling pond, something we could maybe put our feet in. Nope. It was a puddle. Barely noticeable. But a spring it was, and we were able to pump out some cold water to refill our bags and bottles. Most of us had already drank about 2.5 liters.

Around mile 5.5 or 6, you can see the dome and the cables that you have to use to go up them. This? is not heartening. It feels so far away, and also reminds you of the insane task you are undertaking.
At the bottome of the dome part, there are the stairs called Quarter Dome. Here's a picture I swiped from May's facebook: . The picture makes it look a bit tamer than it was. You may be able to tell that it is a series of switchbacks made of stone, often on the edge and making me feel like I'm going to fall to my death!

I went up these stairs mostly on my hands and knees. I'm not sure how much of that was necessity versus fear. Again, they were all different sizes, some with gravel on them, some slippery, all steep and scary. The altitude mixed with fear also made my breathing pretty wonky. After a while I had to sit down every 10 feet or so, even though I tried to just power through and get the dang thing over with. When resting at one point, I just started crying. I was so scared, and I didn't want to keep going. I didn't want to go down, either, though, and that was a problem. The marvelous Sylvia encouraged me, though, and assured me that I could do it and I was just tired. I also knew that no helicopter was going to rescue me from my perch, so I forged on.

In my mind, I was waiting to see the cables up-close, look at the angle, and then I would decide if I was going to make it to the top. This is what I saw:

And I decided not to do it. There is a wider part before the cables that you can't see here, and I sat on a rock near some friends who had already made it up and down again, and I was content to wait there for my group. When Korie came to ask me why I wasn't going, I just started crying again. I was more scared than I think I've ever been. I just couldn't do it. But the marvelous Thomas (you've heard of Thomas & Sylvia in my tales of Mexico) came up and asked me if I wanted to just try it. He said that he'd go with me, and I could just get out on the rock and go as far as I wanted, then turn around. I agreed that I wanted to try, and we set out. Thomas got all Zen Master on me and told me that I was not to look to the right or to the left, but only at my feet, the rock, and the next board. I would only hear his voice, and he would clip & unclip me from the line.

There are 2 cables coming 400' from the top of the rock down to the base, and you're mostly using your arms to pull yourself up. Every 8' or so, there are two poles with a wooden plank between them- these are where you can rest. Sort of mini-goals that seem to be 10 miles when you're out there. The incline is probably about a 45-degree angle at first, and then it gets steeper. Most people go between these two cables and slowly pull themselves up, but Thomas told us all that he would rather we only held one cable because it's not as slippery on the outside, and it's more stable just holding on to one. I think that all us fearful folk ignored him at first and started between the cables. I thought it would be better to be behind people, then I could just concentrate on the back in front of me, and not look up. The problem with that was that there was a bit of a traffic jam. I was going to wig out if we didn't move, so I went on the outside of the cables with Thomas. Then I was a woman on a mission. I was passing people like crazy, because I just wanted the thing to be over!! I would hurriedly pull myself to the next pole and hold on to it for dear life while Thomas calmly told me to take a drink of water and get my breathing under control. Like on the stairs before, I was almost hyperventilating. One of the poles was loose in its hole, and I almost had a heart attack, I tell you.

Like in races, everyone on the whole mountain is like one, big team. Everyone encourages one another, so I had plenty of people, including my friends on the way down, telling me how great I was doing, how close I was, etc. I finally had to tell one stranger who said, "You're almost there!" (without looking at him, of course. The pattern of that granite is etched on my brain.) that people kept telling me that I was almost there, yet I was most assuredly still on that rock. Finally, 7 hours after leaving the trailhead, I was on top of Half Dome.

It really is quite beautiful up there, and I have a huge sense of accomplishment, but I don't think I'm saying, "Oh, it was totally worth it!" It sucked. And the suckage wasn't even over yet.

After about 15 minutes up top, it was thundering, and we had to head back down. I was not thrilled with this, either. Thomas did his Zen mojo on the way down, and I slid/hopped down backwards, with only 1 or 2 near-death moments. My foot slid and kind of flew out at one point, some of those boards felt MUCH farther away than the others, oy. It was rough. Then we had the stairs again. The beautiful thing, though, is that pretty much nothing is scary after that. Hard and painful? Sure. But not as scary as on the way up. It's just that going down irregular, slippery steps is much harder, at least for the short girl with bad knees, than going up. Basically, Thomas walked in front of me, I had my hands on his backpack, and I baby-stepped each one. On the regular trails, I was great. I jogged, I was ahead of people, but those stairs kicked my butt. I would say that they added at least 45 minutes to my time. Knees on fire, being force-fed shot blocks every once in a while, I made it. About 4.5 hours to get down.

After the last of the stairs, I got to that steep, paved trail I pictured up above. Everything in me wanted to just run all the way to the bottom- I was FREE of those evil stairs! I wanted to get to dinner! I wanted to see my husband! Jogging downhill is so much easier on my knees than walking! But I felt like an ingrate running off and leaving Thomas & Sylvia, who had helped me so much. So I ran a bit, then I sat and waited for them.

We had been under the impression that the other groups had already moved on to the pizza place for dinner because they had led us to believe so via radio. The Irreverend Mark even thought he was a funny guy and radioed to say that Seth had broken his other ankle. Plus, you burn an ENORMOUS amount of fuel doing this. We were eating almost non-stop, and my stomach still growled on the way up and the way down. We figured that everyone else would be racing to dinner. But as I neared the bottom, I almost cried when I saw almost everyone at the end of the trail, jumping and yelling and holding a toilet paper finish line. I thought, "I have good friends!" and started running for them
It was all high-fives, pictures, cheers, and hugs.
Everyone was quite impressed that Seth had been sitting in his chair at the trailhead, waiting for me for about 5 hours. He got to be everyone's welcome team, and they started the finish line about halfway through.

We stuck our feet in the painfully cold river, which was good and bad, and then walked the mile or so over to dinner. (It never ends!)

My feet hurt so bad that I couldn't fall asleep until Benadryl knocked me out, I now have a stress fracture, and every muscle in my body hurt for about 5 days, but I did it!

My official "I made it to the top!" t-shirt tells me the stats: 17 miles (gps says 20, though), 4800' elevation gain, 8842' above sea level. In 12 hours, which I'm told is a "nice" pace. Argh. I'm sure that many of you are braver, stronger, taller, in better shape, smarter, saner than I, but I will tell you that climbing this mountain was the hardest thing I've ever done- mentally or physically.
When buying my t-shirt the next day, the girl in the store looked at us, asked if we had done Half Dome the previous day, and then said with a strange look on her face, "You're doing alarmingly well." Rock!

Will I ever do it again? Doubtful. I sort of want to, but those stairs are the worst. There is a trail that may skip most of them. If that's true, I'll probably do it again. It definitely would have to be a group effort, though. Most of us would have turned back without a second thought if it hadn't been for our friends.
(Read Marks' blog for some deep thoughts on this.)

The weirdest spot in the gym

It's the hot tub. Of course, I haven't been in the steam room, and that may be stranger, but the hot tub is pretty weird. It's a spot where you should be totally relaxed and pleased, but it's really just a frothy pot full of strangers trying not to look at each other or their collected dirt floating on the foam. I don't think I'll go back.

A weekend of firsts

This past weekend we went to visit the cousins and I ended up doing a couple things I had never done: I ran a mile, and I rode a motorcycle.
Both were exciting in their own ways, but I will say that was happier about the mile. It was mostly downhill, but not entirely, and it was still quite hard. Even when I started the run, I didn't quite think that I would make it, but as I knew I was getting closer to the end, I was able to push past the wanting to puke phase. I was quite delighted, let me tell you. Plus, I did it in only 9 minutes! Someday soon, I'll be running a mile on flat terrain. Yippee!
The motorcycle was successful, in that I didn't fall, but not smooth at all. Even though I know how to drive a manual car, I was unable to really put that knowledge together with my hands and feet on the bike. I'm used to my scooter, which is an automatic and like a bicycle in that both handles are brakes, so I couldn't put it all together and get it straight that I wanted to use one foot and one hand to brake, I forgot to let off the gas when I shifted- which resulted in a cool/scary wheelie thing once, and I kept wanting the clutch to be my rear brake. Argh. I'll practice more this weekend when I go out for the giving of thanks. And I'll wear a helmet, which will make me more comfortable. Don't worry, I wasn't on a road. I was on the hill/compound of the family, on a slow-moving dirtbike.

I ended up leaving Husband-o-mine there to visit for the week while I came home to go to work and school. It's been nice to have the house to myself a little bit, but nothing has felt that different. I'm still crazy busy and, hopefully, I'll manage my time better this long weekend so that I don't just bask in the time off and then feel screwed when I go to class Monday. That's what happened last weekend.

A note to the Slacker's Prince: I'll be seeing you on Christmas, my dear!
Coming up: political thoughts which I have avoided up until now.